The Shadow War
by Billybobjoe47s
Summary: By the Nortamrican. When a catastrophe breaks the barriers between universes (Including the ones thought of as fictional), a ragtag team of heroes stolen from their homes must defend the one universe that really matters. (Note: Contains many more crossovers then noted.) (Note Note: A tie-in to All Things in Heaven and Earth)


_A/N: This is actually a tie-in story to All Things in Heaven and Earth Part I, (hereafter referred to as ATIHAE), written by my good friend the Nortamrican. This is also a multi-crossover, so prepare for insanity!_

_Billybobjoe47s_

The Shadow War

_**This story is a parallel tie in to All Things in Heaven and Earth._

Note: the author is an insane nerd, and this story samples several different nerd stories and genres. Risk of nerd cross contamination is high.

List of Characters:

The Doctor: Doctor Who

(The Eleventh Doctor played by Matt Smith)

Ezio Auditore da Firenze: Assassin's Creed 2, Brotherhood, Revelations

(directly after Revelations)

The Terminator: The Terminator series of movies

(an incarnation of the Arnold Schwarzenegger Terminator)

Captain Malcom Reynolds: Serenity, Firefly

( a year after Serenity)

*The Dragonborn/Dovakiin : The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

(after total 100% completion of the game.)

Alex Mason: Call of Duty Black Ops I & II

(in between I & II, directly after I but before II)

Sherlock Holmes : Sherlock Holmes, A Game of Shadows

(After the first movie, before Game of Shadows)

Wolverine: the X-men franchise

Starkiller/Galen: Star Wars the Force Unleashed I & II

(a few months after II)

Katniss Everdeen : The Hunger Games Trilogy

(roughly a year after the end of the War with the Capitol)

Szeth Son-Son Vallano, Truthless of Shinovar: The Way of Kings

(Continuity unknown)

*(The Dragonborn in this story in a female dark elf, or Dunmer.)

**This Story may not be entirely canonically correct with All Things in Heaven and Earth; in my defense I didn't expect the Spanish Inquisition.

Prologue: The Gathering

**Unknown Universe**

Ezio stood on the porch of his villa in Tuscany. He was a Mentor of The Brotherhood of Assassins. Ezio stared down into his glass of wine. After the escapade to Masyaf and Istanbul and the visions of the past and future, he had hung up his hidden blades. Ezio felt he was getting too old to continue being an Assassin. He continued to keep limber, and his work in the vineyard kept him in a decent shape, but in reality he had settled down. He had married, Deus himself only knowing how that had happened. Some of the Assassin recruits still came to him for instruction, but on the whole, he had retired.

An odd screeching noise came from behind the villa. Following it he saw a large wooden crate that was a distinct blue. A door opened and a massive muscular arm pulled him in. "Come with me if you want to live." The man's accent was strange and almost unintelligible. A blast of white light hit him and he froze.

**Several Centuries later, yet somehow much earlier;**

**Unknown Universe**

Terminator T-800 X-19 patrolled the dark corridor of the Skynet Mainframe. Cameras had detected some type of disturbance in this sector, and X-19 had been sent to investigate. His titanium skeleton was wrapped in artificial flesh, so that he would appear to humans as a large human male with a square jaw and sculpted musculature. As X-19 passed an alcove his auditory sensors detected a strange noise coming from behind him. He turned and a green light shone in his primary sensors. "Programming Overwritten" flashed across his display. "Well that's fantastic!" said a man in a voice that his databanks distinguished as British. The man held the source of the green light, a small silver cylinder. "I'm the Doctor, but that doesn't matter because in this universe I don't exist. What does matter is that I am your new master. You will obey all of my orders to the letter. You will only harm anyone on my orders." X-19's Programming reaffirmed his statements. The man turned and X-19 followed him into his blue box.

**Unknown Universe**

Dovakiin meditated at the peak of the Throat of the World, the tallest mountain in Skyrim and in fact, all of Tamriel. She felt… discontent. Skyrim was, for the first time, peaceful. Calm. Boring. She had long since slain the last troll, falmer, vampire, dremora or simple bandit that had preyed upon the peaceful folk of Skyrim. She was the Thane of each of the holds. She was Guildmaster of the Theives Guild and had restored it to the force it had once been. She had cleaned the curse of Hircine from the Companions, restored order to the College of Winterhold, and had become the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood.

She had defeated countless dragons, had learned all twenty Shouts. She was master of all magicks, fighting styles, weapons, armors, stealth maneuvers, crafts, enchantments and alchemy. Her Voice outstripped even the power of the Greybeards. She had resolved the civil war in Skyrim. She had visited Sovngarde, the Nordic land of the Dead. She had brought an end to Alduin, the evil dragon that had sought to enslave all of Tamriel.

And now, her adventure was over.

Behind her, she heard a bizarre scraping sound. She turned and saw a strange blue shelter had appeared where it had not been but three seconds earlier. It faded in and out of her vision until it solidified. The door opened, a white light flashed, and she froze.

**Unknown Universe**

Captain Malcolm Reynolds piloted his beloved vessel, the Serenity, across space. Since Reavers had killed his pilot more than a year previously he had taken over piloting the freighter. They had been through quite a lot, the crew, him and the Serenity in the last year. They had beaten the Reavers, spat in the face of the Alliance, and had lived to tell the tale of both. Well, some of them, at least. Shepard and Wash had both been killed, but aside from scars, both on bodies and minds, the crew was otherwise intact.

So he had gone back to the same old stuff. Shipping, ahem, less than legal merchandise across the system to those who could pay enough for them to buy food and fuel. If the job was really big they might even get to repair the ship.

Jayne, his security chief, came over the intercom. "Mal, we got something down here in the cargo bay you should see." Malcolm got on the other side of the com. "Alright, I'm coming down." Getting out of the pilot's chair he mentally went through a list of what it could possibly in the cargo bay that required his immediate attention. If it was dangerous Jayne would have sounded distressed. Instead, he sounded perplexed if nothing else. He donned his iconic long brown coat and holstered his trusty high caliber pistol.

Something was definitely wrong. There was a large wooden crate painted blue just sitting in the middle of the cargo hold. "Who the **** loaded this thing onboard? And how did they get it on without us noticing?" Mal rushed down the series of switchback ramps to the base of the cargo bay to the large blue box. He circled around it and stopped. The barrel of a weapon was pressed to the back of his head.

"Sorry about this my dear captain", the voice had an accent he didn't recognize, though it was probably from the Inner Ring of planets. That meant the Alliance. _****, _he thought. A rush of static filled his ears and white light flooded his eyes.

**Unknown Universe**

Special Operations Captain Alex Mason looked through the scope of his sniper rifle. His team was closing in on the enemy camp. A suppressed rifle shot split the raining night. A sentry in a watch tower went down with a bullet in his skull. _Pfft! Pfft! _Two more suppressed rounds. Two more sentries down. His team moved into the camp. Mason followed them with his scope.

The three men moved stealthily through the camp. They zigzagged between cabins, huts, lean tos, and tents toward a large cabin that had two guards at its door. Mason watched as one of his men crept towards the guards. The soldier grabbed one of the sentries and slit his throat, then shot the other guard in the head with a suppressed pistol. He then waved on the rest of the team and they followed him into the cabin, while one of the other soldiers dragged the dead guards inside. Several seconds later the team brought out an unconscious man, the camp's commander, between two of them. The men ran out through the shadows, exiting the camp as easily as they entered.

Mason got on his radio. "Whiskey Actual, this is Whiskey Six. Package has been secured. Repeat, Package is secure. Over." A few seconds later a reply came through the radio. "Roger Whiskey Six, move the package to the pickup point. Good work." The radio went off.

A cold weapon barrel pressed lightly against his skull. Mason swore softly then whipped around, unholstering his pistol. His enemy was dressed bizarrely for the weather and location, in a khaki suit, and red bowtie. Mason didn't recognize the model of pistol aimed at his head. Before he could get a shot off the strange man pulled the trigger on his weird pistol. White light and noise took him.

**Unknown Universe**

Sherlock Holmes walked through the press of London foot traffic. Watson pushed up next to him. "Holmes, are you quite certain about this? This isn't like one of your normal cases." Holmes walked on, not even turning to look at his companion. "I know Watson. The man we're meeting with hasn't explained any of what his case actually is, other than he wants to meet in person and came to me because he needs my skill and mind." Watson shook his head, as they continued to walk. Holmes was occasionally arrogant like this, flattery in any form worked.

The two of them turned into one of the ubiquitous pubs in this area of London. As he walked in, a man in a light brown suit and a bow tie waved him over. Holmes nodded to Watson. "Stand guard; make sure this isn't a trap." Watson was temporarily taken aback. But then, why should he be? If he had considered that this meeting could be an ambush, why wouldn't Holmes have done it? Watson watched from the back of the room as the man greeted Sherlock with a handshake. They talked for a time, then the other man beckoned Holmes out of a back exit from the pub. Holmes followed him, and Watson cursed quietly. He followed the pair out of the exit, and stopped cold.

A large blue box stood in the center of the alleyway. A bizarre scraping sound emanated from it, and it slowly faded in and out of the visible spectrum. After a few seconds it disappeared entirely. Watson blinked, and the alleyway returned to its normal dirty self. Watson scratched his head.

**Universe E-7**

Logan sat at his usual place in the bar at Westminster. The kids at the damn institute were causing him a lot of stress. Ice clinked in his glass as he downed another glass of whiskey.

His rapid healing made it damn near impossible to get drunk, though his decent paycheck from Charles Xavier let him order as much scotch as his stomach could hold, though he only ever left with a minor buzz. Charles paid him to be a Teacher. Of all the things that had happened in his memory, and those that he couldn't remember, that struck him as one of the strangest. And it was really ironic that after all of the crazy **** that had happened recently a class of "gifted" Kids caused so much stress.

Logan lit up a cigar. He had to sit in an enclosed area of the bar to do that, but heck, at least he could. That was more than he could do at the Institute. He inhaled the smoke deep into his lungs, and could feel his tissue work to heal itself. "Those things kill people you know," an English sounding voice said conversationally. Logan glanced upwards. A man in a khaki suit stood a couple feet away, then walked the few feet to Logan's table and sat down at the other table. "Not me," Logan responded tiredly, silently put on edge by the man's easygoing attitude. "Oh, I know that. I've done my homework, I know all about you Logan, or should I say Wolverine." The Brit smiled, and Logan's first instinct was to rip his throat out and run. No, that was a very bad idea. _Just see what he wants, then act._ "I don't know what you're talking about. You got the wrong guy."

"No Logan, I don't think I do." The man reached in his jacket and removed what appeared to be a glowing silver pistol from within. Logan was out of his with his claws an inch from the man's throat before the light hit him.

**Universe F-1**

Starkiller sat in his meditation chamber aboard the Rogue Shadow. Juno, his love, was about to set the ship into hyperspace. He felt... content. Darth Vader hadn't remained incarcerated for long, and the Rebel Alliance was being hounded across the Galaxy, yet he felt content. He and Juno were together, and though they had had to jump from planet to planet, avoiding the Imperials, their relationship had blossomed. It hadn't mattered to her that he wasn't the same man she had loved, that he was a clone. He held all the same memories. And he loved her.

Starkiller looked down at the lightsabers at his belt. The ones he had used previously had been destroyed in the battle with his former master on Kamino. So he had taken the liberty to craft a new pair. He took both of them in his hands, engaging them. Both contained rare crystals, a black one he had found in the ruins of a Sith temple on Korriban, and another, a gleaming silver one he had found on a former Jedi monastery on Alderaan. The blades of each lightsaber emerged from their handles with their iconic snap-hiss, one eye blindingly bright, contrasting with the black blade, that somehow seemed still to glow, but with a light that was black. Sighing he disengaged the lightsabers and returned them to their place on his belt and returned to his meditation.

Then he stopped. He could feel a new presence in the Rogue Shadow, one that had definitely not been there only seconds before. The dull hum of the hyperdrive drowned out any sounds he could have heard. Starkiller rose from his meditation and strode to the door wary of his room. Following the Force, he found the source of the presence in the cargo bay.

It was an oddly dressed man leaning on a large blue crate that took up a large portion of the empty space in the hold. The man had some sort of blaster pointed at him. Even with all his training Starkiller couldn't react fast enough to avoid the white light that hit him.

**Earth 16**

Katniss Everdeen walked calmly through the woods outside of her home district. It had been roughly a year since she had been released from her imprisonment by the soldiers of District 13 for the killing of their leader, Coin. She had been allowed to move back to the destroyed District along with all of those who had fled and were willing to move back.

She didn't carry her bow. She wasn't hunting to feed her family, they were either dead like Prim, or hadn't wanted to return. Katniss understood why her mother hadn't wanted to return. Meanwhile, she and those who had decided to come back had worked to rebuild the annihilated homes and shops, and she personally worked to rebuild Peeta's mind from its subjection to the torture it had undergone at the hands of the Capitol.

Yet, while only ash and ruble remained of the "civilized" part of the District, the woods were almost completely unchanged. The places that held many sweet, and more painful, memories out here were untouched by Capitol firebombs. But if anything, that was worse. The woods made her think of Gale, which made her think of her mother, which made her think of Prim. It was a vicious cycle of painful memories, and she had to pointedly focus on something specific to avoid being run over by a runaway train of thought.

A mockingjay flitted between the trees above her head. She smiled, meanwhile gritting her teeth. Damn near everything brought back the flood of memories she would have joyfully forgotten. That bird had been the symbol of the rebellion she had served as a glorified mascot for, and as a symbol of herself. The creature created, in part, by the Capitol that had survived the attempts of its creators to destroy it.

The mockingjays went silent. Katniss froze, instincts telling her to dive to the ground. Silence meant a hovercraft, didn't it? Maybe it was a lone surviving Capitol hovercraft, on a mission to wreak revenge on the person who had unintentionally sparked the revolution that had unseated them from power. And if it was, maybe she would let them.

_No. Katniss, you're being paranoid._ She look around and saw something she hadn't expected to see, an unfamiliar man dressed in an unassuming brown suit tromping through the underbrush towards her. He raised a hand to her. Her instincts told her to run. She turned and made it three steps before the white light and noise took her.

**Unknown Universe**

Szeth Son-Son Vallano, Truthless of Shinovar, Surgebinder, Shardbearer and Killer of Kings padded down the profane stone cobbled way of an Alethi border city. There he walked on stone, the weight of hundreds of murders on his shoulders and countless screaming spirits in his ears. He had killed beggars and lords, thieves and soldiers, the brave and the cowardly. The guilty and the innocent. He had killed the kings of Alethkar and Jah Keved respectively, the leaders of the two most powerful nations on Roshar.

And so it was that the most infamous man in Roshar walked through the crowd and not a one of them noticed or cared. Shin, were easy to ignore, with their bald heads, childlike forms, large eyes and usually docile attitudes. You couldn't find a shardbearer with his Blade diffused. A surgebinder was harder to identify since as far as he knew no living person knew what they were. So he walked down the profane street unnoticed until a man touched his shoulder and called him by name.

Szeth turned to face him. In ten heartbeats he could summon his shardblade. But no. He would see this through without aid from aid from his curse. The man was odd, even for a stone-walker. With longish brown hair and light brown hair, and dressed in clothes he had never seen any Alethi wear, dark or lighteyed. He gestured for Szeth to follow him. Szeth silently complied. The man led him down an alleyway to a desolate dead end. Then he turned and spoke to him in his native Shin. "Szeth, the two of us are very much alike. I feel the weight of the dead." Szeth looked into the man's eyes and saw that it was true. The man's eyes contained eons of life and death, centuries of laughter and centuries of tears. Friends made, friends lost.

"You were made for more than this Szeth." The man put a hand into his jacket, apparently reaching for something. Szeth snorted cynically. "The last man who told me that sent me to slaughter innocents and butcher kings and other great men." Szeth turned his gaze to the worn stone at his feet.

"Szeth, look up." the strange man said kindly. Szeth obeyed despite himself, looking to see the man's outstretched palm. Or rather, what it held. A small, rough, unpolished stone. It had a small vein of rusted iron on one side. It was so simple, so commonplace., yet was his Oathstone.

"Szeth Son-Son Vallano, Truthless of Shinovar, in the name of the Valley of Truth and the Land without Storms, I give you your Oathstone." the man folded the rock in his hand into Szeth's. "I free you from the shackles of your punishment. You are free." Tears wet Szeth's eyes. "And now I ask you," the man continued, "to come with me Szeth. I ask you, as a free man, to follow me. I have a mission worthy of your skills and gifts. A world full of innocents need you, and their survival may very well rest upon you and a group of other similar people. You will have to kill, but to save billions of innocent lives. I ask you to come with me and become a hero, a savior. But the choice is yours."

Szeth's mind reeled. A dozen questions assaulted him. He was free? He was needed? Save millions? Become a hero? Would saving innocents wipe away the stains that marked his soul? Silently he nodded. "Good," the man said smiling as he put his hand on Szeth's shoulder. "You should know something. I am called the Doctor." It made sense. Doctor, healer. He followed the Doctor out of the dead end alley way and to the door of a strange blue box. The Doctor opened the door, and Szeth followed him in.


End file.
